Fall time in Caroline! The Panther’s are playing, the leaves are changing and television’s starting to look good again. This early in the game nobody’s talking Christmas, the New Year or next season’s vacation. Just like March and April…late September and October are perfectly ripe for human time—sixty if not thirty five seconds to do nothing but run around and play play and play.
Oh, oh! Did you hear that? I swear it was the Theme to Jaws! There it is again! But I see no fin! Where is Jimmy Buffet when you need him? We need fins to the left and fins to the right! Wow! That Jaws song is getting louder! Is something lurking off our shores of reality?
There it is! It’s the common cold!
While newspapers and broadcast television news channels sink their ratings success into the threat of a vicious out of control earlier than normal flu season, the constant flow of humans on the go does more damage than waiting for your child to bring home a gentle bite from a bug they picked up from class.
Dr. David A.J. Tyrrell, the former director of the Common Cold Unit in England is like the hurricane crew in Florida hunting down the waves that cause destruction. It doesn’t matter how many zinc lozenges you stuff between your cheek and gum to spreading garlic all over your clothes…there’s no real way to forecast the arrival of the common cold.
Dr. Tyrrell does know it begins in the hottest boogie house on earth…and we aren’t talking KC and the Sunshine Band and Kool and the Gang…making the common cold extremely difficult to control are the hundreds of viruses that are extremely addicted to the warmth of your nose. According to the Tyrrell, man hasn’t been able to locate a single source of medicine that’s strong enough to battle everything moving toward us.
People who smoke are the major league players when it comes to carriers.
Tobacco dries out the mucus membranes lining the nose and mouth which impairs their ability to stand up and fight like a champion. Next in line to force you to spend valuable time at the Doc in the Box are moderate drinkers—a glass of red wine a day may keep the heart pumping but baby it’s nothing more than an open door policy for the common cold to walk right in without forking out hard to find bucks for rent.
The true common cold war doesn’t really begin when Johnny in cubical ten is hacking away like a rooster on speed…scientists and highly overpaid medical officials can’t make up their mind on where the junk in the nose trunk begins—is it when Wally at the grocery store honked his hooter in the midst of a great conversation with you or when Brenda assumed she was being clean and courteous when she gently blew into a tissue but forgot to wash her hands before shaking yours? Truth is…everything, everyday is the best time to play, “I think I’m coming down with something.”
Once attacked by the sniffle bug, the world keeps running—while doctors try to convince you to stay home, the general rule and reaction is, “No way! Too much work today!” So off to our little jobs we bounce with tiny droplets of diseases wiggling free from our pockets, thinking Vitamin C is protecting me. Blah blah blah. Medical studies have proven that to be nothing more than a childhood fantasy.
Dr. Tyrrell also warns, “Flu shots don’t guarantee peace from the common cold.”
The true meaning of flu shot love is to bask in an array of trust and companionship by way of staying totally away from certain types of influenza. It has nothing to do with Harry the nose pickers prompt way of flickin the sticky things away from society.
Come on Doc…don’t stop! Give us the beef on relief! Wait! There’s that Theme to Jaws again! What gives?
Stress! Job stress, family stress, the car not working properly stress to your socks not matching…the infection rate of common cold givers and takers shoots through the roof when exposed to someone whose personal life is a total mess. If you’re freaking, your body is leaking. It’s sending out a loud signal to all passerby common cold bugs, “Yo! You! Get over here and give me a cough! I’m more flavorful than hotdogs and chocolate ice cream combined with peanut butter and jelly in the morning.”
Crud! Now you’ve got it! You’re the next contestant on the Cold is Right! Your mission is to calm it down or give it to Old Bugger Bobby McIntosh whose been dying to take some time off.
How are we going to rid the system of this attack? Don’t attempt to pull off an Arroe—his doctors been around the world in less than eighty days 100% free at least twenty times or three hundred and three. I used to love playing the ten day game. No man or woman in white can see me until I’m still sneezing ten days deep. Can you say bronchitis nearly twenty five times with a shot of pneumonia and more? This time of year is Christmas to family doctors; they plan their entire budget on the world’s decision to stop washing its hands. Like them or not…always see the Doc!
Drinking liquids will keep mucus membranes happy as can be, tea and honey is a sweet love song for your throat, inhaling warm air will keep the nose hairs growing but what about all those incredibly expensive over the counter drugs people like turning into meth? Like them or not…always see the Doc!
Don’t pull an Arroe! Between the period of July 18 thru 21, 2009 I “self” prescribed what I assumed was the arrival of strep throat. Because I had battled bronchitis so many times, I assumed the body had nothing more than a mid-summer cold. I juiced up on every over the counter remedy known to man leading me straight to inhalers that I pumped and pumped more than the Black Eyed Peas create music. When something didn’t work, back to the drug store I went. The passion was to rid the body of what I assumed was something caused from shaking too many raw unclean hands.
Nothing seemed to work! Upon my arrival at the Urgent Care the doctor quickly took my temp, then rubbed cotton inside my throat, “Dude, you ain’t got what you said you’ve got…no drugs from me!”
“Holy cow! Something’s not right! My throat is on fire!”
I was having a heart attack. The body had to figure out a plan to get this act off its stage, I played a game I almost lost…God bless the Doc in the Box!
Moral of the story—you aren’t a doctor; you probably will never become a doctor. Running to a drug store doesn’t make you a professional nor are you Latoya Jackson whose been accused of being able to predict the future. If you can’t stop when your body is telling you to drop, you’ve got to see the Doc in the Box…or your family physician. Our company provides gallons and gallons of handy wipes and jelly to make your hands clean again…if that’s not your case then prevent yourself from becoming a carrier and clean up your act as often as you can.
You wouldn’t hurt my feelings one bit if suddenly you reached to clean up…but I’m still a kid inside, I’d ask to breathe in your palm one more time just to see if common cold bugs truly come with ten thousand eyes. Nice!
arroecollins@clearchannel.com
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